


In The Morning

by itishawkeye



Series: The Average [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7330933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itishawkeye/pseuds/itishawkeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing and when he groans and rolls over to find out who the hell is calling him in the middle of the fucking night he’s more than a little surprised to find that the caller I.D. reads Tim. Because the little shit should be fast asleep in the room across the hall from his.<br/>“Tim?” He questions, both very and confused and very sleep deprived.<br/>“Jason,” Tim slurs through the phone. “Can you come pick me up?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, in this universe there are no powers (and I am including being mega super rich as a power in Batman's case, so they are a well off family to the point where Bruce would be able to adopt/foster several children easily, but not to the point where they can build a high-tech cave under their house).  
> Bruce's parents were still murdered so he's still a paranoid bastard.  
> For ages, Damian is 10, Tim is 16, Jason is 19, and Dick is 23.  
> Also, this fic features an unnamed daughter of Ra's Al Ghul from Red Robin issue 024, who for the purposes of this fic is named Lila.

Jason wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing and when he groans and rolls over to find out who the hell is calling him in the middle of the fucking night he’s more than a little surprised to find that the caller I.D. reads  _ Tim.  _ Because the little shit should be fast asleep in the room across the hall from his. 

“Tim?” He questions, both very and confused and very sleep deprived. 

“Jason,” Tim slurs through the phone. “Can you come pick me up? I wanna come home and I can’t find Kon or anybody.”

Jason almost swears because Tim sounds like he’s drunk off his ass even though he’s  _ only _ sixteen god-damn years old _.  _ And Tim knows better than this, really. What the fuck is he thinking.

“I’m getting Bruce,” Jason informs him, already moving toward the door.

“No!” Tim cries, sounding desperate. “Please, I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anyone to know, please don’t tell him.”

Jason pauses because he doesn’t want to leave Tim drunk and crying on the phone, even if he maybe deserves it for being so stupid. “Tim, you got a little drunk. It’s not  _ that  _ a big a deal.”

“Not- no. I didn’t. I was the designated driver and then everyone was gone and I don’t even know where I am now- Jason, please.”

Jason freezes because Tim would never abandon his friends. “You don’t know where you are?”

“I’m outside,” Tim says, and he sounds like he is crying now. “I ran away and I don’t have my shoes or my keys and Alfred is gonna kill me, Jason, you have to help me.”

“Okay. Okay, Tim. I’m coming to get you, just look around and tell me what you see so I can find you.” 

He grabs his keys and sneaks down the stairs while Tim stumbles around an explanation of where he is. Once he thinks he knows what Tim is talking about he puts the phone on speaker and speeds out of the drive-way faster than he ever has in life. 

He finds Tim sitting on a park bench- indeed with no shoes or jacket despite it being late October and fucking  _ freezing  _ out. 

He pulls on to the side of the road, completely ignoring the no parking sign, and rushes over to check on his little brother. When he gets closer, he can see the bruise on his cheek and the tell-tale dilation of his eyes.  _ Shit.  _ Someone drugged him. Someone drugged Tim and who the hell knows why. (Why do they ever… Shit.)

“Are you hurt?” Jason asks.

Tim shakes his head, and Jason feels the panic that’s been gripping him since he left the house lessen slightly.

“Come on,” He says, pulling Tim up and helping walk back towards the car. He drops him in the passenger seat and walks back around to the other side.

“Where are we going?” Tim asks, blinking slowly.

“To the E.R.” Jason tells him firmly.

“No, I don’t want to go,” Tim replies, struggling to pull his head all the way up to look at him. 

He’s clearly out of it and acting on emotion and Jason isn’t going to compromise on Tim’s health.

“You need help, Tim,” Jason says, buckling him in. “I don't know what you’ve got in your system right now, or what affects it has.”

“Bruce will find out,” Tim pleads. 

Jason turns his eyes to the road, heading toward the hospital. “I know. You can't hide this from him.” 

“But that’s why I called you. I thought I could trust you,” Tim says. He sounds angry and  _ sad.  _

Jason can’t help him.

He just keeps driving, even when he hears Tim crying quietly next to him. 

 

***

 

The ER is busy when they walk in, and a nurse directs them to the waiting area with a clipboard full of forms. 

Tim is fading in and out of consciousness now, leaning against his shoulder and Jason looks down at the questions on the form and realizes that he has no idea what the answers to any of them are.

(Tim has health problems. He lost his spleen last year and he’s gotten sick because of it. Has to take medications Jason doesn't know the name of. Doesn't know what the consequences are.)

He has to call Bruce. He’s going to find out anyway. Tim needs him, even if he doesn't realize it. 

He sighs and dials the familiar number. It only rings for a minute before he hears the click that indicates Bruce has picked up. 

“Jason?” Bruce says into the phone, voice groggy. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the ER with Tim,” He says. 

He can hear the rustling as Bruce gets out of bed, already ready to head over to meet them. 

“What happened? Are you both okay?” Bruce asks urgently. 

“I’m fine. Tim snuck out to go to a party tonight and he got drugged by someone. I don't know all the details but he said he ran away and he called me to come pick him up.”

“I’m on my way, keep me updated,” He sounds scared in a way that Jason has never heard Bruce sound. 

The phone clicks off and Jason turns back to Tim. His eyes are glassy and far away.

“Tim?” Jason says, concerned.

Tim’s eyes flick toward him. 

“I’m dizzy,” He says, and then he passes out.

 

***

 

Bruce arrives twenty minutes later, to find Jason sitting in a plastic chair next to Tim’s hospital bed. He steps in and pulls the privacy curtain closed, taking in Tim’s condition.

Jason knows it doesn’t look good. Tim is still unconscious, pale as a ghost, and hooked up to an I.V.

“He passed out,” Jason explains. “The doctor said he’s going to be okay. It could take a couple more hours for the drug to pass through his system. They think it was Rohypnol, but they want to keep him for a day to make sure there aren’t any other effects.” 

Bruce nods, moving closer to Tim’s side. “Do you know how this happened?”

“No,” Jason says. “He called me after he ran out of the party and he was really out of it. The doctor said that there’s a good chance he won't remember, either. There’s some bruising on his jaw, arms, and torso. They look defensive, so it seems like he had it together enough to fight and run away.”

Jason’s phone goes off, and he pauses to look down at the caller I.D.

“It’s Kon,” He tells Bruce.

Bruce motions for the phone, but Jason shakes his head and flips it open himself, ignoring the glare Bruce gives him.

“Hello?”

“Jason- we can’t find Tim. We went to a party and he just disappeared and we don't know what to  _ do,”  _ Kon says desperately.

“Calm down. Tim called me, he’s safe. Someone drugged him, and we’re at the hospital but he’s going to be okay.”

“Oh god,” Kon sounds like he’s panicking. “I should have been looking out for him. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

He can hear Cassie and Bart talking in the background, and he thinks someone might be crying. 

“Listen, I’m going to come get you guys. Give me the address and wait outside, okay?” Jason tells him. 

“Okay,” Kon says, and lists off the address.

Jason grabs his jacket and Bruce grabs his arm.

“Jason, Tim needs you here,” He says.

Jason knows that Bruce is stressed and worried right now, but sometimes he can’t believe how thick-headed he is. “Tim would want me to make sure his friends get home safe, B. They’re scared out their minds right now.”

Bruce snorts. “And drunk of their asses, probably.”

“They called me when they couldn’t find Tim. They did the responsible thing. Some of the kids I used to be friends with wouldn’t have even bothered to look around for me. Don’t blame this on them, blame this on whatever creep decided to drug Tim.”

Bruce lets go of Jason’s sleeve, but he keeps his eyes on Tim. “Make sure you ask them what they know.”

Jason pauses before pulling back the curtain. “Call Dick. That’s who Tim really needs.” 

Jason and Tim are close. But Jason’s brand of comfort is a lot of sarcastic comments and caring from far away. And Jason has a feeling that’s not exactly gonna be what Tim needs when he wakes up with no memory and a whole lot of bruises.

 

***

 

Cassie, Kon, and Bart are sitting on the curb a little bit away from the house where the party took place. It’s about a block and a half away from where he picked up Tim.

Kon is crying, and Cassie has an arm wrapped around him. Bart, for once, is sitting as still as a statue. 

When he pulls up, Cassie guides Kon into the back seat and Bart climbs into the front. 

“Alright, where am I taking you guys?” Jason asks.

“Can we go see Tim?” Bart asks.

Jason pauses. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea right now. Bruce is being a little protective.”

“He’s okay, though, right?” Cassie pipes up.

“He’s gonna be okay. He has some bruises and he probably won’t remember what happened.”

“This never should have happened,” Kon says. “We were supposed to stick together.”

“You guys can't beat yourself up over this. Bad shit happens sometimes and it’s not fair, but it can happen to anyone,” Jason tries to comfort. 

They are all silent for a minute and Jason decides to try again. “So, where to?”

“Kon is staying with Clark and Lois now,” Cassie supplies. “I’m going to Diana’s and Bart, you're with Wally now, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay,” Jason says, pulling away from the curb. “So, I know you guys are upset right now, but can you tell me where you last saw Tim?”

Cassie shakes her head. “We went to dance and Tim didn't want to. The next thing we knew he was just  _ gone _ .”

“I saw him talking to one of the Al Ghul girls,” Bart says cautiously. “Her name is Liliana or Lila or something like that. He looked annoyed.” 

The Wayne family and the Al Ghul family do not exactly have the best track record. Bruce and Talia’s nasty custody battle over Damian is definitely proof of that. But Jason still finds it strange that one of them would go after Tim. Even if the whole family is batshit crazy. 

 

***

 

He manages to get back to the hospital in forty minutes. And to his surprise, Dick is already there and Bruce is nowhere to be found. 

“Where did Bruce go?” Are the first words out of his mouth.

“Hello to you too, Jay,” Dick says sarcastically, and Jason rolls his eyes. “Bruce is talking to the police. I guess they found some security footage of what happened.”

Jason nods and collapses into the seat next to Dick. 

“How did you get here so fast?” He asks because the last time he checked Dick was still in Blüdhaven, a good 45 minutes from here. 

“I was helping Babs put together a new book shelf,” Dick explains. 

Jason snorts. “At three in the morning? Sure you were.” 

Dick sends him a glare and opens his mouth, probably to issue a retort, but he’s cut off by Tim.

His eyes are open, squinting at the light. “Dick?” He says, confused.

“Hey, Timmy,” Dick replies, moving to hold his hand. 

But Tim looks slightly green and very queasy, and Jason grabs for the bucket the nurse had left just in case, and shoves it under Tim’s nose just in time for him to start retching. 

“Oh shit,” Dick says. 

“It’s okay,” Jason explains. “The doctor said this might happen.”

Tim stops puking and looks back up at them, obviously confused. “What’s going on?”

“You were drugged,” Dick says gently. “It’s still passing through your system.”

“Where…” Tim starts and stops. “Where is Kon and Cassie and Bart? They were drinking. I have to keep my eye on them.”

“They’re safe. I brought them home,” Jason reassures him.

“No,” Tim says. “I was supposed to…” and then he has to stop again to vomit.

Dick rubs his back soothingly, pulling Tim’s too long and sweaty hair out of his face. And Jason… Jason doesn’t want to watch this.

“I’m going to go find Bruce,” He mumbles, slipping out through the privacy curtain. 

He heads back toward nurse’s station, hoping that one of them can point him in Bruce’s direction, but it turns out he doesn’t need to look much farther, because Bruce is sitting in the waiting area, looking gloomy. 

Jason sits down next to him. “Tim’s awake,” He says. “He’s puking his guts out and still pretty out of it, but he’s awake.”

Bruce nods, continuing to stare into his crappy hospital cup of coffee. 

“What did the police say?” Jason prods him. 

“They found security footage of him jumping out of a car around where you found him. It looks like that’s where he got most of the bruises from.”

“A moving car?” Jason asks, a little shocked, because he had assumed that Tim had just stumbled out of the party himself.

“Yes. A car registered to Ra’s Al Ghul.”

Damian’s creepy grandfather, who occasionally appears at the house just to fuck shit up for their family. Bruce probably thinks this is some weird attempt at destroying his family, paranoid bastard that he is. 

“Bart said that he saw Tim getting harassed by one of Talia’s younger sisters. Lila. She was probably borrowing the car,” Jason says.

Bruce looks up at him then and Jason kind of hates how self-obsessed he can be. Because he knows Bruce is too busy blaming himself for this to actually go comfort his sixteen year old son. 

But Jason… Jason left too. Sure, he knew Dick was there to take care of things, but he still left.

“Come on, old man,” Jason says. “Tim needs us, right now.” 

 

***

 

It takes until after the sun rises for Tim to finally be cognizant. He wakes up with a killer headache, finally feeling all the bruises he got from his tumble, and confused as hell.

He groans and cracks his eyes open. “What happened?” 

Tim had periodically asked this question throughout the night, unable to remember or understand the answer they gave him; enough that they had taken turns answering. 

This time around it was Jason’s turn. “You went to a party with Kon, Bart, and Cassie, and you got drugged. Do you remember anything?”

The police had said it was important to ask before they told him anything. To see if he could fill in any of the detail himself.

“Cassie and Kon wanted to dance, but I didn't want to. And then Lila kept coming over to talk to me… and then… I don’t know,” Tim says, furrowing his brow in concentration. 

Jason nods. “We think that she drugged you, and managed to get you out of the party and into her car. When she got about a block away you jumped out of the car, which is where you got most of the bruises. You called me, and I came and took you to the hospital.”

Honestly, Jason is almost glad that Tim doesn’t remember that part. Doesn't remember how he begged Jason not to take him to the hospital or call Bruce. Jason knows he did the right thing, but it still feels like a betrayal when he thinks about Tim crying in the passenger seat of his car. 

“What about my friends? I was supposed to drive them home- are they okay?”

Jason nods. Tim had also spent a lot of the night more concerned about his friends than himself.

“They’re fine. They called me when they couldn't find you, and I picked them and brought them home.”

“Thank you,” Tim says and then pauses. “I’m sorry.”

Jason frowns. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have let myself get drugged. I- sorry,” Tim stutters out, clearly upset.

“Hey, hey,” Dick jumps in. “You didn’t  _ let  _ anything happen. This isn’t your fault and you have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”

Tim laughs suddenly- loud and manic. “God, if anything had happened Damian could have had a nephew and a cousin!” 

“Tim,” Bruce starts. “You did everything right. And nothing happened.”

Tim shakes his head a little, and there are tears brimming at his eyes. “No. I know better. They always say not to accept drinks from strangers and I just- I don’t even know what happened. I can't even remember.” 

“Hey,” Jason says and Tim looks at him. “I’ve seen this happen to a lot of other people, Tim. And it wasn't any of their fault, right? You wouldn’t blame Stephanie or Cassie if this happened to them, right?” 

Tim nods. 

“So why is it any different for you? Tim, the only person to blame for this is Lila Al Ghul. She was the one who decided to violate someone’s boundaries and take away their choice.  _ This is not your fault.”  _

Tim wipes at the tears falling down his cheeks. “Not my fault,” he repeats. “It’s not my fault."

Like if he says it enough times he will be able to believe it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian has nightmares. Tim has insomnia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to originally make this it's own fic, but i ended up focusing on the events of this fic more than I meant to. (And it ended up being a little shorter than I originally intended.) So I'm just adding it on to this one.

Damian wakes up with an intense feeling of  _ this isn’t right  _ settled deep into his gut. There’s no pleasant morning sun sneaking in through his window like usual, so he’s woken before he normally would. He glances at his bedside clock to confirm, and finds it’s  _ well  _ before he would have normally woken. 3:25am. 

He should just go back to sleep, but the feeling of wrongness isn’t fading, and he remembers a flash of his dream (the hallway of the house splattered with blood, his mother’s empty eyes and his father’s disappointed gaze…) 

A nightmare. How embarrassing. 

He sighs, knowing that he won’t he be able to get back to sleep, and untangles his legs from his sheets. He might as well do something other than stare at the ceiling for the majority of the night. He sneaks past the bedroom’s and down that stairs... only to find that the light in the kitchen is already on. He freezes because everyone is asleep, so there’s no reason for the lights to be on… unless someone is in the house. 

He considers going back up the stairs to warn his father, but, of course, he can handle this on his own. He doesn’t need his father to deal with something as simple as a light that shouldn’t be on. 

Just in case, he grabs Grayson’s old baseball bat from the closet. 

He approaches the room silently, ready to swing…

“What the hell, Damian?” A familiar voice says from behind him, and he most certainly does not jump out of his skin. 

It’s Drake. He’s sitting on the window sill by the kitchen door, holding a mug and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Damian has no idea how he missed him.

“I saw the light,” Damian says, dropping the bat.

“And you decided to attack it?”

“I thought there may have been an intruder,” Damian defends, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, yeah, and a ten year old with a baseball bat is going to stop a thief,” Drake laughs.

“What are you even doing down here?” Damian demands, and Drake looks away.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He says quietly,

Damian is not about to admit to Drake that he couldn’t sleep because of something as silly and childish as a nightmare. Damian is ten years old, not two.

Drake sighs, and looks back at him. “Do you want some cocoa?” 

Damian almost says no because he isn’t a child and he doesn’t drink cocoa. But last week his father had practically begged him to try and get along with Drake and Damian can see that this an attempt at ‘reaching out’. 

“Fine,” He says, and follows Drake back into the kitchen. 

Damian doesn’t know much about Drake. He isn’t like Todd, who wears his whole life story like it’s armour, or Dick, who actually confides in Damian. All he knows about Tim he’s gathered from various off-hand comments and overheard conversations.

His parents are dead, but he was fostered by Bruce for a couple years before they died. Apparently, the family used to live next door. Which seems like it must have been a very awkward situation to Damian. He can’t imagine if his mother lived next door. He knows Drake doesn’t have a spleen, but he’s not sure why. And a couple weeks ago, he had woken to find Dick downstairs, saying he was going to be staying for a couple while because Drake was in the hospital. No one would tell him why. 

Drake, on the other-hand knows everything about Damian.

He’s even witnessed a couple of his parents fights about him. Talia, screaming that this was not how she wanted Damian to be raised. Bruce, yelling back that Talia had abandoned him and didn’t get a say anymore. 

“You didn’t even know he existed for eight years, Bruce. If anyone abandoned him, it’s  _ you!”  _ His mother had screamed. 

“You think I would have allowed that if I had known? You kept him from me! And then you disappeared for two years and you think that you can just come back here and take him again, it’s not happening!” His father had returned.

Drake and Todd had been forced to break that fight up when it turned violent, and his mother had not been allowed to set foot inside the house since. All of Damian’s meetings with her were supervised events in public locations. It was not ideal. 

Either way, Damian wishes he had the same leverage against Drake that he has against Damian. It’s why he’s been forced to petty insults against him. 

Tim puts down the mug in front of him and Damian takes a cautious sip. It’s good. Drake even put cinnamon in it the way that Damian was forced to admit to Grayson that he liked it. 

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, frowning.

“Of course I am okay,” Damian scoffs. “Why would even ask?”

“Well, it’s three in the morning and you’re awake for some reason. And you kind of look like someone kicked Titus,” Drake says. 

Damian pauses and considers his options for how to answer. He doesn’t want to disappoint his father by starting another fight and ruining this moment. However, he also does not want to admit to Drake that he’s upset over something stupid. 

“I was just thinking,” Damian says, instead. “You’re the only one in the family I don’t know anything about.”

Maybe this way, he can gain some leverage, just in case. Even if Drake is not a threat. 

Drake seems surprised by this. “Well, I’m pretty boring?”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Come on, I don’t even know why Dick is here. All anyone told me was that you were in the hospital. But you weren’t sick or injured.”

“That’s… it’s not kid stuff, Damian. They just want to protect you,” Drake evades. 

“By keeping me in the dark? What if the same thing happens to me? I wouldn’t know what to do because everyone thought I wasn’t mature enough to know.”

Drake takes a breath. “Fine, but you can’t tell Bruce I told you.”

Damian nods.

“I snuck out with my friends and a girl drugged me. She wanted to be with me and I didn’t want to be with her, so she decided to take my choice away. I was really out of it, but I jumped out of her car and called Jason to come and get me.”

That was… not what Damian had expected. He had never thought that perfect, rule following Drake would sneak out the first place. Damian may have misjudged that aspect of his personality. It appears he is just very adept at hiding his wrong-doings. 

He’s heard of people getting drugged before, but he thought it was something that happened in movies when the bad-guys wanted to kidnap the rich heiress or the hero’s lover. Not something that happened to people like Drake. 

Damian has many questions, but he doesn’t know where to start. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, finally.

Drake pauses. “I’m not sure.”

That’s not what Damian has expected either. Despite what Todd and Grayson seem to think, Tim has always seemed to be the most put together one in the family to Damian. Yet here he was, sitting alone in the kitchen at 3am.

Damian thinks about his nightmare. About his mother and the social worker he was being forced to talk to tomorrow and the court date he had seen written in his father’s date book. He looks down into his cocoa mug.

“Me either,” he whispers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only written a short drabble from Damian's perspective before so this was a bit of a challenge. But I like the idea of them bonding and having a better, brotherly relationship. (I feel like they have a lot a more in common than they want to admit.)  
> Please let me know what you think in the comments! For more please follow me at itishawkeye.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I feel like I may have made Tim too whiny in this fic, but he was heavily drugged for most of it. Please leave some feedback and for more fic please follow me at itishawkeye.tumblr.com


End file.
